


Hands On

by zebraljb



Category: NSYNC
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 13:32:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3174996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/pseuds/zebraljb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joey gets Chris a gift certificate for a massage.  JC is the masseuse at a massage parlor run by Nick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brandywine28 (brandywine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine/gifts).



HANDS ON

“I got you something.” Joey pushed an envelope at Chris.

Chris slowly finished his coffee and put the cup down. He took a few bites of omelet and pushed the envelope back without opening it. “No thank you.”

Joey looked surprised. “What? C’mon, man. You didn’t even open it.” His voice dripped with hurt.

“Joey, you bought me breakfast. Meaning, you OFFERED and then bought it without me having to ask. Which, I might add, takes some of the flavor out of it. When I don’t have to work for a free meal, it just doesn’t taste as good.”

“Whatever.” Joey waved his fork in the air and syrup hit Chris in the shoulder. “Why are you refusing my gift?”

“Why are you going all Godfather on me?” Chris asked skeptically.

Joey pushed the envelope back again. “This benefits the band.”

“So, you’re telling me that Justin and Kevin know you’re giving me this gift.”

“Of course!”

“This is an actual gift. It’s not, I don’t know, a court summons, or the name of someone you want me to knock off, anything like that?”

“Christ, Chris,” Joey said in exasperation. “First of all, why would I be giving you a court summons? Secondly, don’t you think I’d call someone a little more qualified than you if I wanted to knock someone off?”

“I could stab them with a drumstick,” Chris said defensively. “And don’t think I don’t realize how proud you are that you probably really do know a hit man.”

“I don’t,” Joey said quickly. “But some of my brother’s friends are really shady.” He tapped the envelope. “Gift. Open. Say thank you.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Chris snapped, but he picked up the envelope. “Gooleen’s Massage and Salt Room.”

“It’s pronounced Julian.”

“It’s spelled G-U-L-I-E-N.”

“I realize that, Chris. I bought it.” Joey ran a hand through his hair. “WHY do you make things so difficult?”

“Special talent,” Chris remarked. “You do realize, Joey, that a massage parlor isn’t…”

“It’s not THAT kind of massage parlor. No happy endings. You’ve been bitching for months that your arms are killing you. I’m tired of it. Kevin’s tired of it. Justin’s tired of it, and he worships the ground you fucking walk on. Kevin’s EYEBROWS are tired of it.”

“I didn’t know Kevin even paid attention when I talk,” Chris said, referring to their stoic keyboard player. 

“Kevin pays attention when you whine, because no one can help it,” Joey replied. “It’s an hour-long session. You’ll end up refreshed and rejuvenated, and maybe you’ll even be ready to write again.”

“Shut up,” Chris muttered, not even wanting to think about the immense writer’s block he’d been experiencing. “The Infant has come up with some pretty good stuff.”

“That boy doesn’t need to have his head swell any bigger, so PLEASE don’t tell him that,” Joey begged. “Just do this, Chris…for me.”

It was the “for me” that made Chris sigh. Joey never asked for anything but pretty girls to sleep with, special picks for his bass, and Band-Aids for his fingers.

“Okay. I appreciate you thinking of me. I really do, Joe. I’ll call and make the appointment, I promise.” Chris tucked the envelope in his jacket pocket.

 

Of course, Chris never meant to really call and make an appointment. What he’d underestimated, however, was Joey’s memory for things that were important to him, as well as Justin’s capacity for dogging him like a, well, dog.

“So, did you like the gift?” Justin eagerly bounced up and down. 

“Um, yeah. Thanks.” Chris wiped his drumsticks and reverently placed them in their case.

“It was my idea, really. Well, Kevin was the one who said you needed something to help you relax, and I thought of a massage. Joey knew a guy, or something, so he got it for you. So it was a group gift.” Justin leaned on the bass drum, Chris growled at him, and Justin quickly stood up. “Cuz we care about you. Plus you’ve been pretty grumpy.”

“He’s always grumpy.” Kevin placed the cover on his keyboard. “How can you tell the difference?”

Justin opened his mouth and closed it. Chris had to smile. It wasn’t often that their young lead singer was at a loss for words. “So…make that appointment yet?” Joey piped up.

“Yes, if you must know,” Chris lied. “For Thursday.”

“Great.” Justin bestowed a sunny smile and went to gather his things.

That meant Chris really DID need to call and make an appointment. Thankfully, they had an opening on Thursday.

 

The place looked fairly normal, Chris had to admit as he opened the door. He knew deep down that Joey wouldn’t send him anywhere dangerous. If it were a joke, Kevin most definitely would NOT have been in on it. Chris doubted Kevin knew how to SPELL joke.

“Hello there,” the man behind the counter said. He was young, maybe Justin’s age, with shaggy blond hair dotted with blue beads. “Welcome to Julian’s.”

“Joey was right,” Chris murmured to himself. “Hi. Are you Julian?”

“Oh, no!” The blond shook his head, sending a few beads flying. “I don’t have a name anything like that. I mean, you hear a name like that, it sends out good vibes, you know? I’m Nick. I run the place and everything. Took over when Julian retired and moved to Venice. I kept the name, because I figure it’s good karma.”

“Right,” Chris said apprehensively, cursing Joey in his mind. “I, uh, have an appointment.”

“Wonderful!” Nick beamed. “You’re…”

“Jesus, Nick, you couldn’t even drag them up the stairs?” A voice bellowed from a door down the hall. 

“Should you…” Chris motioned to the door.

“Oh. Right.” Nick gracefully strode down the hall on legs so long Chris seethed with jealousy. He opened the door.

“I don’t see why they can’t fucking deliver…” A short man with a black goatee and blond hair almost fell into the room. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a customer.”

“You get wound up way too quickly, Alexander,” Nick said loftily. “It’s not good for your heart. Or your kidneys.”

“No, what’s not good for my kidneys is all the Jim Beam I drink,” Alexander corrected. 

“That is true,” Nick agreed. “As we were saying…you are?”

“What? Oh. Chris.”

“Chris. You’re Joey’s friend!” Alexander dropped a large bag of something soft and crawled over it to shake Chris’ hand. “I know Joey. I have the tattoo shop next door. I’m AJ.”

“Oh, okay. He’s mentioned you. What’s up?”

“Nothing much.” AJ motioned to Nick. “Nicky and I share the laundry services for our towels and stuff. Heaven forbid they drop them out front, though. Always through the back into the basement.”

“Please do NOT call me Nicky,” Nick sighed. “I really wonder that I don’t need to meditate for an hour every night after dealing with you.”

“What you need…” AJ shook his head. “Never mind what you need. I’m going to be professional. You’re what…the drummer?” AJ asked, and Chris nodded. “Sweet. I always wanted to drum, but the ink called me, man, and I had to go.”

“You’re a drummer. Fascinating,” Nick said. “It’s a frightening career path, though, isn’t it? You could end up drowning in your swimming pool, like what’s his name…the drummer for Led Zeppelin? Brian Moon?”

Chris laughed out loud. He couldn’t help it. “Well, you’ve got things a bit mixed up. Brian Jones was the drummer for the Stones. He drowned in his pool. Keith Moon was the drummer for The Who. He overdosed. I assure you that I’m nowhere near their caliber, either in playing OR partying.”

Nick smiled serenely, not at all embarrassed by his mistake. “Let’s get you started here. I just need to you to fill out this form for our records.”

“Sure.” Chris took the clipboard and sat down.

“You said you don’t mind who does the massage, male or female?”

“Definitely doesn’t matter to me,” Chris said. “I’m, uh, open to many things.” He was glad that his many years out of the closet had eradicated his need to blush.

“Don’t break a fingernail, there, Nick. I’ll get the rest of this.” AJ shoved the bag to the side and opened the door again. “At the end of the day you’re another day older,” he began to sing. “And that’s all you can say for the life of the poor…” He disappeared back through the door.

“It’s a struggle, it’s a war…and there’s nothing that anyone’s giving…” Chris sang along, smiling at the idea of a pierced tattoo artist singing Les Miserables.

“I’ll help you, Aje,” a male voice said, and footsteps clattered down after AJ.

Chris focused on his information and medical history, proudly writing “self-employed – musician (drummer)” on the “employer” line, although he knew deep down that “Applebee’s – waiter” was a bit more factual. The footsteps soon rattled back up the stairs, but Chris didn’t look up. He was too busy trying to remember if the last surgery was on his left shoulder or right knee.

“Okay, then.” Nick gave him a blissful smile as he handed over the clipboard. He read down the page, biting at his bottom lip. Chris normally didn’t go for blondes, hippies, or blond hippies, but Nick was a tall, pretty drink of water. “You don’t have any current problems?”

“Well, my truck doesn’t always start, there’s a leak in my apartment, I don’t currently have a boyfriend…” Chris said with a grin, then realized Nick wasn’t smiling back. No sense of humor. He should try to hook Nick up with Kevin. “Ahem. No. Nothing currently. Just the usual aches and pains of a drummer over thirty.”

“All right then. We’ll have Jaycee focus on your neck, shoulders, and arms.” Nick nodded to himself and made some notes on Chris’ form. “What you’ll do now is go down to the room at the end of the hall. Take off as much as you feel comfortable removing, but I’d suggest going down to your underwear, if you can.” Nick’s blue eyes ran over him. “You ARE wearing underwear?”

“Yes. They have Scooby-Doo on them,” Chris said innocently. Nick didn’t even crack a smile. 

“Put everything on the chair, and then get under the sheets on your back. Jaycee will be in shortly.”

“All right. Thanks.” Chris walked away, shaking his head. The kid was awful young to have such a drumstick up his ass.

 

Chris carefully closed the door behind him. He undressed, neatly folding his clothes and putting them on the chair. He then took a good look around the room. There was a small lamp in the corner, which cast a peach-colored glow on the room. A small speaker quietly played what Chris derisively called “that New Age crap,” and a tiny rock waterfall happily dribbled on a shelf. “Hippie heaven,” Chris muttered to himself, then climbed onto the table.

As soon as his back hit the table, Chris decided that if this was what hippie heaven was like, he would tie-dye all his clothes as soon as he got home. The sheets were soft and heated, as was the table beneath him. He felt like he was actually sinking into a warm bed. Chris closed his eyes and sighed. 

He heard a timid knock, and the door opened. “Hello there. You’re Chris?”

Chris’ eyes flew open at the male voice, the same voice he’d heard call down to AJ on the stairs. “Uh, yes. Chris.”

“I’m JC.” Even in the dim light, Chris knew that JC’s blue eyes were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. That was until he moved past them to JC’s wavy curls, fine cheekbones, and shy grin. 

“Right.” Suddenly Chris felt very VERY underdressed. He felt like he was completely naked, with every flaw available to the blue eyes.

“Is that all right? I mean, Nick said you didn’t mind a guy…”

“Oh, no, that’s fine,” Chris promised. “Completely fine.”

“Good.” JC smiled in relief. “The last thing I want to do is make anyone uncomfortable.”

“Right,” Chris said again.

“So…you’re a drummer? A lot of tension in your shoulders and forearms,” JC said, and Chris simply nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Just close your eyes and relax, okay?”

“Right,” Chris said, and could have bit his own tongue off.

He heard JC sit on a rolling stool and pull it up to the end of the table behind Chris’ head. “I’m going to start on your face, if that’s all right,” JC whispered, and Chris could only nod again. He was concentrating on telling other parts of his body to relax and calmthefuckdown when he felt the first pressure of JC’s fingers on his face. He sighed. He couldn’t help it. It felt like JC was pulling every negative thought of his head and pushing it out towards his chin. “Many people don’t realize how much tension you hold in your face. Especially if you frown a lot.”

“You should meet my friend, Kevin,” Chris murmured. “His face is so tense you could crack it with a hammer.”

“Make sure and refer him to us, then,” JC said, quietly chuckling. His hands slowly worked over Chris’ face, then moved down the sides of his neck.

“Oh, Jesus,” Chris groaned before he could help it. “Oh, um, sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s nice knowing I’m making someone feel good.”

“So…oh my GOD good…” Chris gasped as JC found a knot on the side of his neck. “I didn’t even know that muscle was THERE.”

“Most people don’t,” JC replied. “There are ten muscles in the neck alone.”

“I think…I have a knot…in every one.”

“Well, it’s good we have an hour then.”

“We may not make it any further than my neck,” Chris whispered.

“You’ll just have to come back, then.” JC’s thumbs dug in and Chris bit back a howl. “But why don’t you try to stay still and relax?”

“If you’re telling me to be quiet, good luck. I’m not very good at that.” Chris opened his eyes and saw JC’s upside down smile. 

“Do your best. Think of something that makes you very happy and satisfied.”

Chris’ happy satisfied thoughts at the moment involved JC horizontal on that table, but he pushed that away. “I’ll try.”

When Chris put his mind to something serious, he normally accomplished it, and was therefore surprised when JC swung the chair to the side of the bed to pick up his left arm. Chris’ eyes fluttered open and he studied JC. JC did a double-take. “Is something wrong?”

“No. I…you don’t look…” Chris looked at JC’s jeans and pink tee.

“Trust me.” JC wiggled his fingers. “These babies are stronger than I look.”

“I believe it,” Chris said, stretching his neck a bit. 

“If I go too hard, please let me know,” JC said as he began to move his hands down Chris’ arm.

“Oh…oh my GOD that’s better than sex,” Chris almost yelped, and could have suffocated himself with the sheet.

“That’s…I’ll take that as a compliment.” JC giggled and Chris found a new thing to love about him.

Chris forced himself to relax, but it was difficult. Apparently he’d been living for years with steel rods in his arms, and JC was attempting to shatter every one of them. Chris concentrated on the dripping of the fountain, attempted to pick apart the instruments in the music (he gave up once he realized it was all synthesizer). JC moved to his right side and picked up the other arm. “If I can’t play tomorrow, may I sue you?” Chris murmured.

“I’ll make sure you get my number before you leave,” JC said. “I give you permission to take whatever legal action you deem necessary.”

“Okay…because I’m not sure right now whether I should kiss you or kill you.”

“Nick only has one other employee right now, so be kind,” JC said in a teasing voice.

Chris could only moan as JC worked on his dominant arm. He found himself clenching his toes as JC hit knot after knot, but he didn’t tell him to stop. “I should…have come in…sooner.”

“That’s true,” JC agreed. He finally lay Chris’ arm on the bed. “Turn over.” JC held the sheet and helped Chris spin onto his stomach. He heard JC giggle again. “You were telling the truth. They ARE Scooby-Doo.”

“I wouldn’t lie about Scooby-Doo,” Chris said sternly, trying to adjust his face in the weird apparatus at the end of the table.

“I believe you.” JC’s hands slid up Chris spine to the base of his neck, and Chris could say nothing more.

 

“Chris. Chris.”

“Hmmm?” 

“We’re done here.”

“We are? But I didn’t…really?” Chris picked his head up and blinked.

“All done. Actually, we ran a bit over sixty minutes, but that’s all right. I don’t have anyone else for another half-hour.” Chris heard JC wash his hands. “Roll over and slowly sit up.”

Chris obeyed, feeling the room swim for a moment. “Did I pass out?”

“No. I wondered, since you stopped talking, but I think you were just very VERY relaxed.” JC smiled at him, and Chris felt the room spin for a whole different reason. “How do you feel?”

Horny and completely believing in love at first sight, Chris thought to himself, but said, “Okay. A little weak.”

“That’s to be expected. Be careful when you stand up, okay? Take as long as you need in here. Drink a lot of water the rest of the day.”

“I will.” Chris would have bought the East River and put it in bottles if JC told him he should. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” JC slipped out of the room and Chris fell back onto the bed groaning.

 

Chris was extremely disappointed to find Nick alone behind the counter. “Well…how do you feel?”

“Like JC ran me over with my truck, but in a good way,” Chris promised. “May I make another appointment?”

“Of course.” Nick opened the calendar book and flipped to the following month. “Second Thursday good?”

“Yes. Same time. Is, uh, JC going to be available?”

“I will mark you down on his schedule.” Nick made some notes and handed Chris a brochure. “This has…”

“Wait!” JC burst out of another room. “Excuse me, Nick…I think that’s one of our old brochures. He wants this one.” JC shoved a brochure at Chris. 

“Oh…all right, JC. I’m sure that’s fine.” Nick looked a bit confused, but Chris had the feeling Nick always looked that way. “We look forward to seeing you again.”

“Yes, thank you.” Chris almost stumbled out the door.

He walked around the corner to the parking lot and climbed into his truck. It sputtered to life and Chris sat for a minute, letting the engine warm up. He opened the brochure and something fell out. It was a business card for the massage parlor. On the back was written, “JC: 555-0876. My next appointment isn’t until 4:30.” Chris stared at it for a moment, then realized JC wanted him to call. Before 4:30. Chris hurriedly dialed.

“This is JC.”

“JC…this is Chris. Um, Chris Kirkpatrick. I just left.”

“Yes. I know who you are.” 

“Um…hi.”

JC laughed nervously. “I wasn’t sure if you’d call.”

“I’m a little curious as to why you gave me your number.”

“I…would…would you like to go out for a drink tonight? I’m done at seven. I mean, that is if you’re not busy. Or God, maybe you’re not even interested.”

Chris could hardly believe this babbling voice belonged to the ethereal creature who’d just had his hands all over him. “Whoa…JC. Whoa.”

“Sorry…”

“I just…” Chris laughed. “You’re surprising me.”

“Well, yeah. I have to be all calm and cool and peaceful when I’m working. Especially around Nick.”

“I bet. Well, to answer your question…I’m not busy, I’m very interested, and I’d LOVE to meet you for a drink.”

“Really? That’s great. I mean, I was nervous, because I wasn’t sure I was even, you know, your type…”

“How could you not be anyone’s type?” Chris said before he thought.

JC paused. “That was sweet. Thank you.”

“I just…I’m a little shocked you wanted to go out with ME.”

“Why not? You’re attractive and witty and damn funny. I heard you talking to Nick and could barely contain myself when you told him about all your problems and then the Scooby-Doo underwear! That was great.”

JC thought he was attractive and witty. Chris made a mental note to buy Joey a pony. “Okay, so…”

“Meet me here at seven-thirty? We could walk around the corner to Glenn’s.”

“Sounds great. Seven-thirty.”

“Great. Goodbye, Chris.”

Chris sat and stared at his phone for a long moment before shifting the car into gear. He had to go home, shower, and change. He had a date with an angel.


End file.
